Sunday, Silent and Grey

Sunday, ugh.

When I was a tiny thing, Sundays were marvellous. Sunday meant Sunday Drives, those long motorcar adventures with a picnic box in the back seat and nowhere in particular to go where you'd always see something new, take a few family snaps from the camera (back when it had a 24-photo film cartridge that lasted a year, and a clip-on disposable flash: remember that smell?). We'd stop for an ice cream somewhere and on the way home, watching street lights go by, I'd eventually tip over to sleep on the back seat. Hey, no seat belts in those days either.

Then my parents packed me off to College, and Sundays became recover-from-the-party day. I'd tell you more about those, but weirdly I don't remember any of them.

Later, it was the day off work, spent in bed with a big newspaper and coffee and a television remote that eventually I learned to share, in spite of the prevalence of (bleughh) sports on Sunday television.

Then, it became a day to practice being a witch or a Buddhist or a Druid or a genuflecting and devoted Catholic, depending on what spirituality I was exploring at the time. But now I've got three kids, one with ADD and two with autism, and for everyone's sake Mass is now tackled one parent/child at a time. So, very often on Sundays I've been home with two playmates and toy cars, dollhouses and lift-out puzzles. Not so bad really.

Now, alas, Sundays have gone quite quite bad, becoming the day I need to pedicure my feet, shave my legs, condition my hair and moan loudly about the continuing presence of the extra fifteen pounds I'm carrying, all in preparation for Monday's Hydrotherapy appointment, which in a cruel twist is timed to coincide with my daily nap.

Honestly, I'm 42 now. Married. Work-at-home writer-mom, living on the backside of the remotest hill in all Ireland. Shave my legs?? This is so wrong.

So. Wrong.

For all the woes heaped on me by this Fibromyalgia lark, at least it's providing me with one thing (besides bald legs and sanded-down heels). I'm happily eligible to enter the Arthritis Care creative writing competition before the 30th of this month. The theme this year is "Holiday from Pain", and that's stumped me, for now. I nearly asked Himself and the kids for a few ideas, but then remembering their car-wrecking zombies, thought better of it. I'm on my own here.

But, if that doesn't turn into anything, there's also Word Gathering, which accepts writing from folks with disabilities, though they don't pay. And there's Arthritis Today, which needs articles mostly but will also look at personal essays and poems, preferring queries to manuscripts.

Kaleidoscope, the magazine of the United Disability Services, has put out a call for submissions whose theme is "Journeys of All Kinds": fiction, essays, poems all welcome, and there's plenty of time left with an August deadline.

Coping with Cancer accepts personal experiences on coping with cancer. They don't pay, but articles are very short (775) , the magazine is read by over half-a-million people bimonthly in waiting rooms across North America, and they do allow an author's note at the end where presumably you could mention your own book or website. I'd call that fair enough, especially if you're looking to earn tearsheets or publicity.

Closing the Gap reports on assistive technology, and accepts article submissions. Dang...personally I think this would have been a superb market for short science fiction and other speculative genres, inspired by the same cause. Granted, they might have drawn a lot of Bionic Woman and Robocop ripoffs, but you know, the best stories just might have inspired ideas in someone else who could do something to make a new piece of assistive technology possible. Or it could encourage regular readers to stretch their imaginations to solutions, along with providing an entertaining escape. But, the editors want nonfiction articles only, it seems. Anyhow, they provide author's guidelines on the website, offer a free sample of the magazine to help you, and if you look at the right sidebar you'll see a link to an author's checklist.

The Healing Through Creativity event in Appalachia is another place for your poetry, creative writing, artwork and more, all from (or supporting) survivors of trauma or abuse. I wonder if they'd take a collage made from leg hair, shredded appointment cards and chlorine residue?

Dialogue magazine needs very short pieces for their magazine on living with a visual impairment. No fiction or poetry it seems, but plenty of else, with departments including personal essays, tips, and anecdotes. The publication is released in large print, braille, cassette and e-mail. Payment is $15-35. (The page hasn't been updated in some months, but provides an e-mail for enquiries.)

Well, there you are. Plenty to do and write on a Sunday, which beats walking slowly over wet sand anyhow, or shaving your legs.